


The Black Pussycat

by black_rose4



Series: Writing For Others [14]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, Innuendo, Pre-War, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_rose4/pseuds/black_rose4
Summary: She leans in closer, her breath almost brushing his ear as she talks. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”He clears his throat. “Actually, it’s both.”In which shore leave turns into something far more fun and flirty than Nate had ever intended. Written for the lovely androleda





	The Black Pussycat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [androleda](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=androleda).



He wasn’t sure about this place when his friend Tommy had first suggested it. The name  _ The Black Pussycat _ had hardly filled him with confidence, in fact all it had done was make him think they were going to a gentlemen’s club, which was certainly not his first choice of entertainment. But this is better than he’d anticipated. 

The place is dimly lit, bathed in a wash of red light and clouded by the layer of smoke that always hangs in the air. Booths line the walls, each one packed tight with men in dark looking suits playing cards and smoking cigars. A modest-sized dancefloor sits in the middle with a shiny black and white tiled floor, and around the edges are circular tables, some occupied, some abandoned in favour of said dancefloor. Behind it all sits a small stage, big enough to fit the few band members it currently seats and little else, and lining its front are some old theatre lights, currently in use, not that they do much. 

Tommy drags Nate away from all that and towards the bar. That too is modest, though well stocked, and from what Nate can tell it’s not the cheap shit either. Even the glasses look like the good kind. 

Nate tugs anxiously at his collar. He can’t help but feel a little underdressed. 

“What’ll it be, boys?”

Tommy orders for them both while Nate lets his gaze wander some more. A few old theatre boxes still sit up top, currently empty and, by the looks of it, disused. Except for one. 

She’s watching the bar below, eyes focused on everything and nothing as she slowly smokes her cigarette. She seems to attract the light, the sequins on her black dress blinking at him through the smoke. For the briefest of moments her gaze finds his and he swears, before she looks away, she winks. 

An elbow nudges him in the ribs and Nate winces, but before he has time to complain a glass is thrust in his hand and he’s told to drink. He glances back up and she’s gone. He tries not to be too disappointed as he gulps down his whiskey. 

He spends the rest of the evening attempting to enjoy himself. The drinks keep flowing and the merriment ensues. A few ladies approach him, earning Nate a knowing nudge in the ribs, and he politely joins them on the dancefloor. If the women notice he’s a little rusty on his feet, they don’t say - though they’re too enthralled by the uniform he’s not wearing to even care. 

By the time the bouncer arrives at their table, the lads are more than a little toasted. They both gulp thickly and follow the walking brickhouse to an area of the club they’ve made sure to steer clear of. It’s cordoned off with a thick velvet rope and two more brickhouses are stationed at the doorway, stopping unwitting fools from accidentally wandering through. Next they’re lead up a narrow set of stairs and through a beaded curtain into a room well-hidden from the rest of the club. It’s better lit than downstairs, though barely, the entire room still bathed in that same red light as down below. Up here, in this smaller, plusher room, the glow feels somewhat more intimate. Or, Nate can’t help but think, dangerous. 

And in the centre of the room, sat in a plush leather chair and smoking another cigarette, is the woman from the balcony. She smiles sweetly and waves off the bouncer. “Thanks Boris. I’ll take it from here.” 

Nate tries not to get distracted, but his new surroundings make it incredibly difficult. A few gentlemen sit around a small but elegant table, their faces unreadable. Their attention is focused on the cards in their hands, whilst his is drawn to the mountain of money and assorted valuables in the centre of the table. If he felt out of place before, here he feels like he’s drowning. 

He gulps down his nerves and lays on the charm. “Well well well, and here I thought you were just some beautiful illusion made of smoke and mirrors.” 

The woman smiles. “Maybe I am. Maybe you’re dreaming.” 

Tommy interrupts before he has time to think of a smooth comeback. “Damn, I wish all my dreams were like you.” The woman’s brows furrow curiously for a moment, but then it’s gone again and she’s smiling warmly at them both. Her whole presence seems to radiate charm and ease. And power. “Shit, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m, uh, Tommy. Pleasure to meet ya.” He holds his hand out for her to shake, but she just looks at it with that same curious look. If Nate didn’t know any better, he’d think she was sizing him up to eat. 

Much to Tommy’s disappointment, she doesn’t take his hand. Instead she looks past him for a moment, towards Nate, then turns her gaze back to Tommy. Her smile feels somewhat more condescending now, what that Tommy seems to notice. “Tommy. Great name. Listen, Tommy, how about you head back down to the lounge and have a few more drinks. On the house, of course.”

“But I thought-”

“Run along now, Tommy. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

He seems to pause for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights. But then Tommy sees sense and scurries away, muttering something about  _ disappointment _ under his breath. If he weren’t so confused right now, Nate would laugh. 

His hostess stands then and slinks her way over to him. It’s his turn to feel like a deer now. She licks her lips hungrily. Nate shifts uncomfortably in place. 

“I’m-”

She cuts him off with a finger on his lips. “Drinks first, then names.” 

He nods and lets his feet carry him back down the stairs and towards the bar. He orders another whiskey for himself, then pauses when he gets to her order. Nate curses. “I don’t know what she’s drinking. It-it’s the woman upstairs in the box. Ya know, black dress. Got all those bodyguards.”

The bartender smiles knowingly and nods. “Two drinks, coming up.” 

She sips at hers slowly, watches Nate as he gulps his down. When his glass is empty, he sets it down a little too hard, causing the table to rattle. She laughs lightly. “Why so nervous, pretty boy?”

His collar feels too tight as he swallows. “I, uh, don’t often get invited into private rooms by beautiful women like yourself. It’s a little intimidating.”

“Do I intimidate you?” 

“Yes,” he answers honestly. 

She grins. “Good.” She sets her drink down and stands, extending a hand towards Nate. He looks at it confused. “Come on, twinkle toes. Show me some of those smooth moves of yours.” 

Despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach, Nate stands and follows her through a thick curtain and out onto a balcony. It takes him a moment to realise where they are: her theatre box. “Really? Out here?” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve got stage fright? You didn’t earlier.” 

His back straightens. “No. I just didn’t know if you’d want to do this so...publicly? After all, your room back there was so nice and cozy.” 

“We’ve got plenty of time to get nice and cozy in there later, don’t you worry. Right now, I wanna show you off a little.” 

The music in the club changes, the tempo slowing. Nate pulls his partner into hold. She pulls him closer. He doesn’t mind one bit. They begin to sway, moving in time to the music. Everything suddenly feels a little too tight. Her legs slot easily between his, and suddenly Nate is very aware of this attractive woman subtly grinding up against him. Part of him wants to pull away, to give himself some breathing room. Part of him doesn’t care. 

She leans in closer, her breath almost brushing his ear as she talks. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

He clears his throat. “Actually, it’s both.” 

He can hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” She pulls back and rouches up the side of her skirts, making sure her exposed skin remains out of sight to the patrons below. She takes his hand and guides it to her skirts, prompting him to finish lifting them for her. He swallows thickly. “Impressive, no?”

Nate nods, though frankly he’s not sure if it’s at the size of her gun or at her legs. He then takes a moment to gather himself before bringing her close again and guides her hand to his waistband. “The safety’s on, but be careful.”

“Don’t wanna blow your load too early, right?”

He feels her hand creep past his waistband and find its way to his ass cheek. She squeezes. Hard. Nate bites back a groan and prays the club’s lighting hides the heat blooming in his face. “Something like that.” 

She presses herself against him again, hand still firmly cupping his ass cheek. “I’m sure I could get your motor back up and running with a little of love and attention.” 

His clothing is definitely too tight now, but she’s making it very hard to care. “Lady, you could do whatever you wanted to me. Well, no knives. But mostly whatever you wanted.”

Her smile spreads then into something wicked and sultry and satisfied. “I think I’m gonna like you.” 

 


End file.
